


One Night

by Ally147



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally147/pseuds/Ally147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a mystery to Misty how Ash could still set her on fire with a single glance. What was not a mystery was how Ash loved to use this piece of information to his advantage at every turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this the prequel to 'One Morning' and be warned, there is some smut in this one.

It was a mystery to Misty that even after ten years of friendship, four years as the couple all their friends and family seemed to relish saying "we told you so!" to, and one year of happy marriage, Ash could still set her on fire with a single glance.

What was not a mystery was how Ash loved to use this piece of information to his advantage at every turn.

One impossibly sexy smirk over a wine glass across the room nearly an hour ago had left her hot and wanting, drifting aimlessly through the crowd of tormentors that all seemed hell bent on keeping her away from her husband. All night long she had been subjected idle conversation regarding nothing in particular with people she barely knew, all the while her stupid sexy husband shot her regular cheeky glances that told her that he was very aware of the effect he was having on her. And on her knickers.

Why hers or Ash's presence was even required here tonight she would never know. The idea of simply not showing up had been toyed with frequently since receiving their invitation before deciding that the potential consequences for both their positions were hardly worth absconding one ball. Great, there was a new leader at the Viridian City gym; who the hell cared? Was an initiation ball really required whenever a new Gym Leader was found? And who decided it was necessary that basically anyone who had ever picked up a damn Pokéball was deserving of an invitation to such an event? Misty sighed in frustration and nodded at regular intervals at whatever it was senior undersecretary to the head of the badge making department or whatever he was was saying as her eyes travelled over the crowd again, finding her husband deep in conversation with the League CEO.

He was doing a far better job than she at concealing his annoyance, she observed. While she was fighting for some semblance of concentration, he looked right at home discussing League reforms. The only indicator he was as bored as her was the game he was playing with her, testing her limits until she decided to say 'fuck it all!' and leave to indulge with him in something a tad more enjoyable. Her breathing became ragged as her eyes trailed unashamedly up and down over his form, lingering on those as good as magical lips that were a little on the thin side but could take her to unimaginable heights with a single kiss, those broad shoulders she'd grip as she arched into him when they made love, and that perfect arse that she'd –

"Mrs. Ketchum?" The undersecretary called in slight alarm. "Are you feeling alright? You look positively feverish, dear."

She flushed deeply, though whether it was because she had been caught out staring or the overwhelming desire that was flooding her body she did not know. "I'm fine," she replied faintly. "It's just… it's quite hot in here, don't you think?" She waved her free hand rapidly in front of her face as she gulped the remainder of her wine.

"On the contrary, dear, it is really quite cool, to keep the ice sculptures in one piece." He gestured a hand at the elaborate displays to which Misty frowned; she had always viewed such things as stupidly superfluous. "Perhaps it is something else that is making you… hot, as it were? An ailment of some description?"

Her bastard husband had the audacity to turn at that moment, taking in her flushed cheeks and shooting her another wink. She arched an eyebrow in response as yet another wave of heat assaulted her body, making her feel as though all her nerve endings were on fire, and Ash was the bucket of water that would put them out. She huffed a small laugh; an 'ailment' indeed.

"Perhaps you would benefit from some fresh air," the undersecretary pressed on concernedly, taking her arm and leading her to an open door. "Would you like me to fetch your husband for you and tell him where you'll be?"

Misty could have sworn she saw a flash of amusement pass through the old mans' eyes. She smiled cordially and nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated, sir, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not a problem at all," he replied with a low nod. "Let me see if I can't find him."

She lowered herself to a stone bench beneath a willow tree, leaning back against the wood and suppressing a moan at feeling of the rough bark scraping deliciously against the bare skin of her shoulders. "I saw him speaking with the CEO not long ago."

"Yes," the undersecretary replied slyly. "You were watching him quite intently, I noticed. I'll see if he's still there. Don't move, Mrs. Ketchum. You're as good as invisible if you stray into the shadows out here, and I shan't be long."

She nodded as she watched the man whose name she never caught disappear back into the ballroom, inwardly cringing at just how obvious she had been in her distractions if an old, unmarried badge maker was calling her out on it and offering to fetch her husband to 'make her feel better'. She was loath to admit, however, that this was not the first ball they had attended as a couple that had ended like this, nor was it the second or third, or even the fourth or fifth.

"Just over there, on the bench."

Misty looked up from the ground, watching the undersecretary lead Ash by the arm to the door and point in her direction. "She's feverish and appears to be somewhat lightheaded. I trust you'll be able to… take care of her?"

Ash shot an incredulous look at the older man and almost laughed. "I'm sure I can make her feel better."

With what almost looked like a smirk and a quick wink, the man bowed and left them.

"You're becoming very, very obvious, you know that?" Ash said lowly, each word laced with a confident intent that had replaced the shy, adorable awkwardness of their teen dating years. "I wouldn't be surprised if the whole room in there knew what you were thinking. Dave certainly did, and all from a single glance. You know this makes eight for me?"

Misty snorted and folded her arms. "Tragic how you feel the need to keep score."

"Oh, come on," he drawled, taking slow, lingering steps closer as he tugged his suit jacket off his shoulders and let it drop to the ground. "If it makes you feel any better, it's taking a little longer each time for you to give in."

She stood and moved to meet him halfway. "You know there's only one thing that'll make me feel better right now."

"But have you earned it?" he retorted playfully, reaching out to run his fingers teasingly across her skin.

"Not tonight, Ash," she warned in a tone she hoped held more conviction than she felt as he backed her closer to the bench.

"You'll get what you need, Mist," he murmured as he moved forward to brush barely-there kisses against her lips, cheeks and nose. "You know what I want to hear."

"Oh!" she gasped when he bit down on her shoulder and toyed with a nipple. "I won't say it!"

"Yes, you will," Ash said confidently. "Remember, you've said it seven times before, you'll say it again."

"Not tonight I won't!"

"Hmm… pity." He pulled away at that moment, leaving a weak-kneed Misty to fall back to the unyielding stone bench.

"Ow!" Misty exclaimed, glaring up at Ash as he smirked down at her smugly. "That hurt!"

"Say the words and I'll make it all go away."

"You're a sadistic bastard, you know that?"

"Yes, well, you are the one who married me."

"Temporary insanity," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that, Misty?" Ash inquired impishly, moving to kneel in front of her. "I didn't quite catch that."

She shot him an innocent smile. "Nothing at all, darling."

"Good," he continued casually, slowly pushing the hem of her dress up to stroke along the bare skin of her thighs, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked as his fingers inched closer and closer to her centre before drawing back, setting up a maddening, unchanging rhythm she was sure might actually drive her insane.

"Not even a little bit and you know it," she ground out, whimpering with every teasing stroke he made.

"Funny," he murmured lowly, allowing his fingers to brush against the damp, silky fabric of her knickers as his head fell to the crook of her neck. "I'd have thought you'd like it when I take away that tightly wound control of yours, that you like knowing that everything you want is in my hands, and that all the pleasure in the world is yours if you just say the words."

"Oh, for fuck's sake… fine!" She whimpered as he snatched his hand away again. "You win, Ash! Are you happy now? You win, alright?"

"Very happy," he purred as he picked her up by the waist and pushed her roughly into an alcove hidden in the shadows.

Misty felt there was something very, very wicked about not knowing quite where he was standing, not knowing where that next touch would come from, not being able to see anything right in front of her, only being able to hear the sound of the zipper of his pants being lowered and the scratchy sound of his fingers deftly unbuttoning his starched shirt. Suddenly, he covered her body with his, capturing her surprised gasp with his lips as he kissed her with an intensity that seemed to burn her from the inside out. His tongue made long, languorous sweeps of her mouth, distracting her from the wandering hands that were tugging at the hem of her dress, pulling it up between them so it stayed bunched around her waist.

"Do you… any…?" she panted breathlessly against his lips, unable to form a coherent sentence as his fingers pushed her panties to the side and brushed against her soft, wet heat.

"In my jacket," he replied huskily as his lips fell to her neck, suckling and nipping at the skin. "Should I…?"

"Too far!" she gasped when his fingers moved up slightly to graze the over sensitised nub at the apex of her thighs. "Need you now!"

"God, you're so wet," he groaned against her neck.

She laughed breathlessly against his ear, her warm puffs of breath in the cold night air making him shudder against her. "Have been all night, as you well know. Please, Ash, now."

She felt him pause against her. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly even as his fingers continued to tease her. "It's just over there." He jerked his head in the direction of the jacket and moved to get it, stopping shocked when Misty growled and held him tight to her.

"Yes, I'm sure! If it happens it happens, just get inside me now!"

He groaned at the demanding tone and thumped his fist against the wall, unable to resist such an invitation. He fumbled awkwardly in the dark, gripping his length as he moved between her soft legs that wrapped immediately around his waist. He held himself steady against her, his head falling to her neck as his tip brushed against her wetness. She wriggled her hips impatiently and gasped loudly as he pressed himself more firmly against her and thrust up and inside in one smooth motion and began to move.

It was different, Misty thought to herself as Ash continued his leisurely strokes. In the dark, everything was heightened between them; the scent of sweat and sex in the air was potent, mingled with the sweet scent of the cherry blossom perfume Misty favoured, and the spicy cologne Ash only threw on begrudgingly before special occasions. She listened for the muffled, organic sound of skin hitting skin, and the delightful symphony of moans and gasps they made when he changed his angle slightly to hit that patch of nerves inside her that always had her seeing stars. She even reveled in the roughness of his skin as his hands as they wandered all over her soft flesh, roving over her breasts and tugging at her hardened nipples before moving to squeeze at her slender waist and hips and even lower still to rub slow, torrid circles on the little nub that always sent her screaming.

But they couldn't have that; they were fucking against a wall not ten metres away from a party where anyone could come out and investigate the decidedly indecent cacophony of sounds coming from their direction. Ash pulled his head away from her neck and moved his free hand back up her body, along her hips, ribs, breasts and neck until it was resting on her cheek. He ran his thumb over her lower lip and slowly moved forward, careful not to bump her in the dark, and caught her lips, immediately swallowing her moans as her walls began to flutter around him.

His control begin to slip. Immediately, he thrust into her faster, harder, pushing her roughly back into the wall behind her as he buried himself deeper inside her with each passing stroke. Her hands tugged harshly at his hair before moving to dig her nails into his shoulders, surely hard enough to draw blood if she wanted to, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She came apart with a whimper that he swallowed with his kiss. He continued to thrust into her, finding his own release moments later with a groan of her name against her lips.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling as puffs of clouds in the cold air as softly murmured words of love were exchanged.

"We'd better get back inside before anyone notices that the Master is missing," Misty said shakily as she moved her legs from his waist.

"We always disappear like this, and no one's said anything so far," he replied, dropping a soft kiss to her neck and smoothing her dress back down. "Can't we just go home?"

She slumped against him. "No, they still have to take the new group portraits of all the leaders for the League newsletters. We can't go yet."

"But you're willing to tempt me out back to have your wicked way with me?" he asked with a smirk as he fixed his pants and bent down to retrieve his shirt.

She scowled at him as she tried to bite back a smile. "You had your part to play in this too, Ketchum, and don't you forget it!" She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, wincing when her fingers caught in the knotted strands. "Great," she muttered.

"Here, let me." Ash took her wrists and pushed them back down to her side before running his own hands through her hair, gently untangling the knots from the loose waves her hair had been styled in for the night.

"Hey, Misty," he began tentatively.

"Hmm?" she replied distractedly, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on her scalp.

"So we didn't… you know."

"Use protection?" she guessed with a yawn.

"Yeah, that."

She sighed. "We're twenty-five, Ash, and married; would a baby be such a bad thing if it did happen?"

"What? No!" he exclaimed, extracting his hands from her hair, satisfied that it was neat again. "I'd love to be a dad! It's just… well; we've never really talked about it."

She rolled her eyes. "So we didn't use protection once. It's no guarantee I'm pregnant anyway, so don't worry."

Ash's eyes took a protective glint. "You're not drinking anymore of that cheap champagne in there just in case."

"But it's boring in there!" she whined.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr once more. "I'll help distract you."


End file.
